


Taste of Heartache

by lethalsiren



Category: MCR - Fandom, My Chemical Romance, The Used
Genre: Emo, Gay, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, MCR, Ship, Taste Of Chaos, Warped Tour, mlm, tasteofchaos, the used - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25188703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lethalsiren/pseuds/lethalsiren
Summary: Frank confides in Jepha because he’s jealous of Bert and Gerard relationship and doesn’t understand why. Jepha has always had a thing for frank ever since he saw him at an eyeball records party. Franks attention slowly shifts from anger at bert to an affinity for Jepha. Jepha though, still has resentment for gerard and the way he treats frank.
Relationships: Bert McCracken/Gerard Way, Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Jepha Howard/Frank Iero
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter One

Guitars rang out quietly in the distance as crowds cheered on some other group of twenty something year old dudes in skinny jeans and studded belts. They had just finished their set and frank ached from rolling around on the floor and jumping around for the last 55 minutes. He shuffled backstage with pansy in one hand and his cables in the other. He was itchy from the heat and sweat was dripping down his face, arms and neck. Already kind of drunk he looked around the tents for an ice cooler. He wanted a beer so goddamn bad. He found his case and put pansy away somewhere for their next set. He couldn't find anyone with a keg or a six pack anywhere for some fucking reason. You’d think that at a music festival with hundreds of horny substance abusing 25 year olds finding alcohol would be a little easier. He was drained but his adrenaline was still high from playing, so he gave up on finding a hand out and headed for the bus. He didn't expect there to be much there for him to drink considering Gerard had been treating Stella like oxygen. Frank had begun to notice the more drunk he got the more his smile would fade.  
He heard a soft roar of laughter that got louder as he neared the bus. "I'm glad he's feeling better," Frank thought as his hand reached for the door. stepping in, his nose was greeted with the thick sweet smoke of Marlboro 27s. great. Now I'm craving two things. Frank looked up from the steps of the van and met eyes with gerard. He never seemed to get over the way Gerard's eyes gleamed and glossed over when they looked at each other. shaking himself from their gaze frank then noticed Bert. Bert was the lead singer for his own band, the used. They each had a cigarette in hand that smoke drifted from gracefully. Two crushed cans of beer sat next to them. He didn't have a problem with Bert; he just couldn't help but notice how close he was to Gerard, the way their knees were touching slightly, and how he seemed to be interrupting something.

"Hey Frankie, what are you looking for?" Gerard questioned him. _Frankie_. He repeated fondly in his head.  
"Frank?" Bert asked again, when he didn't respond. "You alright?"  
"Yeah, uhm" Frank stuttered, forgetting why he was there. Feeling around in his pockets he remembered. Beer. Cigarettes.  
"You look like you need a drink my friend" Bert laughed. _Maybe that's the problem I have with him, Frank thought. He's always offering to booze people up. Maybe he's why Gerard has been so fucked up all the time recently._  
"Yeah sure I do" Frank scoffed and quickly grabbed a Modelo from the fridge and his cigarettes from the counter.  
"Frankie?" Gerard asked as Frank shut the door to the bus a little too hard.

 _God, is it so fucking hard to just sit a comfortable distance away from someone. At least when someone else is around,_ Frank thought. He was actually starting to cool off from playing before that. Now his temperature was rising again, his head felt heavy and sweat was building at his hairline. He stomped across the grass, he didn't even really know why he was so angry or who he was angry at. Gerard has been his best friend for a while. He loved him of course. The same way he loved Ray and Mikey and Bob though. At least he thought that's how he felt about gerard. _he doesn’t owe me shit. Why does it make me fucking….so pissed off to see them sit like that. Talk like that._

His beer was starting to build condensation from the august heat. He stopped his power walk of unexplained rage for a moment to look for a familiar face or somewhere to sit down. There were busses everywhere. He didn't want to feel like a creep, stalking around other bands busses, so he found a section of curb shaded by a small tree. Moments after he sat down someone yelled for him in a kind deep voice.

"Hey, Frank! I’ve barely seen you since you got here.'' Frank looked up to see Jepha Howard, who seemed to appear out of nowhere. He was the bassist in berts band. He liked Jepha. and Jepha liked him.

"Jepha!" Frank shouted. "Come sit, man"

"I'll take you up on that," he sat down next to frank with a beer and a pack of cigarettes of his own. Simultaneously they cracked open their drinks and lifted a cigarette to their lips, lighting it, and inhaling.

"I love touring, but sometimes it just feels like things don't stop," Frank exhaled. Sighing Jepha turned to look him in the eyes.

"Yeah, I get what you mean. It’s hard to catch a break." Jepha took a puff of his cigarette, wanting to seem seamless and calm. He had seen Frank for the first time at a party. There were always new people at the eyeball house because they threw parties all the time, but Frank stood out to Jepha. He was small, about 5’5 and had piercings. He wore a pink pink grommet belt and played guitar and was a cool motherfucker but didn't act like a douchebag around girls because of it. Probably because he didn't know just how special he was. Jepha partly blamed Gerard for that.

Frank glanced down to his aching hands and then Jephas. "I can tell you play like a mother- your calluses are really nice"

"Nice isn't the word I'd use." Jepha said, blushing.

“No I really mean it. Your nails are fucked too. All bruised.” he teased.

“Your hands aren’t exactly the picture of beauty either.” He looked at his bruised elbows and his scraped knees that peaked through the rips in his jeans. “Cearly someone goes a bit apeshit when they play”

“Hey now, I simply go where the music takes me.” Frank scoffed, throwing his hands up. Ash from his cigarette fell into the space between them. _See, Jepha knows how to fucking act. Doesn’t tell me I’m too tense or that I need to get drunk to have a connection with someone, and jepha sits an appropriate distance away from Gerard._ They both sat in the quiet for a moment. it was nice for frank to just sit like this for a moment. He got overwhelmed easily. He got angry easily. Jepha seemed to ease that. The fire that was always festering just below the surface of franks skin.

Jepha silently looked from the cement to Frank's face and his eyes traced the silhouette of his body from his uneven shoulders, to his tattooed arms, and hands which held his vices. to the dark jeans that hugged his legs. Frank just faces forward and pretends he didn’t notice jephas gaze. _I want to see your eyes._ Jepha thought.

Frank then turned and smirked slightly. franks green eyes with sprinkles of hazel shone in the orangey summer light. The sun would go down in an hour or two.

“Do you ever feel like people think they need booze to function and then it becomes the reason they can’t?” Frank questioned and turned away from Jepha and quietly waited for a response. He was talking about Gerard of course.

“Yeah...I think some people are hurting so they need something to make them feel better but that happiness is always temporary when it’s booze or pills” Jepha knew he was talking about gerard. Every musician develops some sort of dependency when they’re on tour without fail. Jepha was watching it happen to Bert just as Frank was watching it happen to gerard. He knew how much it hurt to see your best friend devolve before your eyes. He had also seen the kind of care and kindness Frank put into his relationship with Gerard. from a lot of people's eyes, it looked like Frank put in ten times more than Gerard did. Maybe it was just because he was always so fucked up he could barely talk but behind closed doors Frank was known as somewhat of a kiss ass. Always at gerards beck and call. Jepha kind of resented Gerard for that reason. He's so special. I don't know anyone who plays like him, cares like him, smiles like him. they were each on their third or fourth stoke by now.

“What are you thinking about?” Frank pondered.

“Nothing just…you know how special you are right?” Jepha said quietly.

Frank laughed out loud. “You’re kidding right?”

“No I’m not.” jepha got serious suddenly.

“What are you even talking about Jeph?”

“I just mean...you’re one of the most interesting people i’ve ever met. You have this fire in you I've never seen in anyone else.”

Franks ears got red and head felt hot again. He looked at Jepha with a “you’re crazy but also so fucking adorable” look.

“What? I'm just being honest. I think you let people treat you poorly sometimes. you’re worth more than you let yourself think” Jepha nodded and raised his cigarette to his dry lips.

“Oh..” Frank muttered. He looked at the ground and zoned out on a small grey pebble. He kicked it away. _Is this mother fucker talking about gerard? Wait. I’m supposed to be mad at him. I guess he could be right._

“There’s not much time before our next set.” Jepha said.

“Well Bert’s in our bus if you need to go find him” Frank said bitterly.

“Woah, you two got some issues?”

 _Shit what have I started_. Frank thought. “Um, no...kinda. He just.. I don’t even know”

“You just said a lot of nothing.” Jepha laughed. “What happened?”

“I don’t know why.. so don’t make fun of me but, I just hate the way Gerard and Bert act together. they sit so close to each other and act so...cutesy for some reason.” Frank quickly realized what he was saying sounded insane. “I don’t know it’s.. really stupid and sounds…”

“Sounds like you care about Gerard a lot,” jepha said suggestively, trying his best to hide his jealousy.

“Yeah..I guess I do” Frank sighed off the feeling he had in his stomach. One he couldn’t identify. He smudged his cigarette on the asphalt and quickly sipped the last of his beer, crushed the can and threw it aside. He looked at his watch, the time read 6:37. “Isn’t your guys set at like 7:15? You should head over to the stage” He wanted to wrap up this conversation.

“Yeah, probably” Jepha said. He was upset and wanted to get more out of him but didn’t want Frank to know that. They stood up and walked together to MyChem’s bus. Frank was exhausted. He could play another show if he had too, but he was drunk and had just chain smoked half a pack of cigarettes. He wanted to smoke a bowl and pass the fuck out.

As they got closer to the bus he heard Ray's sweet raspy laugh. Then he saw him and Mikey standing talking to some other guys who seemed roughly their age a few feet from the bus.

“Hey!” Ray said to the both of them and Mikey nodded in their direction. Jepha and frank waved back. “l’ll be watching your set, Jeph!”

“Don’t make me nervous, Toro!”

Frank looked up at jepha. When Jepha looked back, Frank smiled. Frank noticed the warmth in his eyes and the genuinity in his smile.

What the fuck. He thought. He felt like there were dozens of wind chimes jingling in the pit of his stomach. _This is what it feels like when Gerard looks at me. Like really looks into me._ All things considered, Frank was really confused. Frank desperately tried to hide the pink spreading across his face from Jepha.

“Jeph, you son of a bitch. Let’s get to sound check” A loud high pitched voice exclaimed from the steps of the van.

 _Bert_. Frank thought. Jepha rolled his eyes but tried not to make it so obvious. Bert stepped from the bus with his lanky legs and swung his arms forward with him. He stumbled a bit and tried to regain his balance. _Of course he’s fucked up._

Frank was being hypocritical and he knew it. As if he hadn’t been desperate for a drink earlier too. He just wanted someone to blame if he was being honest. Someone to pin his anger and confusion on.

Jepha looked down at Frank and saw his half glare he had set on bert. _Bye_. He thought and followed Bert, Ray, Mikey, and the rest of the herd of dudes that were hanging around the van.

 _Motherfucker, I just want to crash already_. He knew that wouldn’t be that case but he could hope. He had been left deserted standing in front of the bus. He knew Gerard was in there and he didn’t want to deal with that, but his bunk and his pipe were also in there. He slowly turned to the door and started toward it.

Once again, in opening the door he was met with a cloud of smoke. It was a comforting smell at this point. After touring with the way brothers for this long he had settled for the musk of cigarettes, weed, and old salsa as he slept instead of their stench.

The door shut softly and he looked up, taking a deep breath. Gerard looked intensely back at him. “What the fuck was that earlier?” His words were slurred. He could hear the spit that built up in his mouth, saw how his limbs moved like there was nothing keeping him together. A ziplock bag sat on the leather seats of the bus. In it were various orange bottles. Which ones were his meds and which ones were xanax, adderal, oxy or whatever the fuck he had managed to pawn off someone, he didn’t know. “Ya know sometimes you have to figure out we aren’t the only people in the world.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? So I’m wrong for giving a shit about you?” Frank spouted.

“You walk in here and talk to Bert like that for no reason. He didn’t do shit to you Frankie.” Gerard stepped back a bit, but it wasn’t on purpose.

 _What am I supposed to tell him? That I resent Bert because he shoved his own issue with booze down Gerard's throat. That he encourages him to get so blasted he can’t produce a coherent sentence?_ Of course, that's what frank thought, but he couldn’t tell Gerard that. Gerard can’t even fathom someone caring enough about him to stop him from spiraling.

“Well?” Gerard shouted. “What is it?”

“You’re drunk.” Frank hissed.

“No I’m not,” Gerard said as he spit all around him and tipped back and forth.

“You can’t even stand gerard! don’t try to tell me off for being angry at you and bert. Look at yourself.” Frank was stepping closer to Gerard. His blood was boiling. He was sure smoke was coming out of his ears. One fist was clenched at his side and the other was pointed at Gerard’s chest. He looked down to the bag of miscellaneous pills. Gerard followed his gaze “You scarf down pills like fucking candy.”

Gerards eyes were vacant. His lips twitched like he was going to cry. Or scream. Frank doubted he would even remember this conversation in the morning. Gerard had folded his arms across his body and couldn’t hold eye contact with Frank.

“You haven’t noticed how Bert is always offering you and everyone else a drink or a hit? Like he needs other people to be as fucked up as him in order to hang with them” He spat.

“That's not fair,” Gerard defended.

“How’s it unfair? What's the last time you remember being sober?”

“Fuck you” Gerard spit at Frank, holding back tears.

Frank stepped back and blinked at him. _Am I ever going to get through to him? He can’t think this okay, he’s not fucking stupid._

“Fuck this. Fuck you and your bullshit, Gerard. Figure your shit out and fast. Everyone is tired of looking out for you and you rejecting it and refusing to look in the goddamn mirror for once. You’re not a kid anymore. I’m out of here.'' Frank reached for his coat and swung his body around towards the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this Chapter Frank struggles to understand the feelings he had about his friend(s). He always had a lingering wonder of what its like to be with Gerard and now Jepha seems to have a particular interest in him and he doesn't know how to deal with it. 
> 
> This chapter is a lot shorter than the last I just need to next one to be its own chapter because a lot happens. sorry it took so long to update. if there are spelling/grammar mistakes please just look away.

Before he knew it, Frank was deserted again somewhere in the hellscape that was the parking lot for the tour vans.  _ Shit.  _ He thought, when he realized he had no clue where he was.  _ I don’t know how long I've been walking for.  _

He couldn’t pinpoint just where he was. He heard sounds and voices that sounded familiar, but he felt completely and utterly lost. So he sat down at the nearest empty patch of asphalt he could find. Even though he was surrounded by vans that probably held five or six people each, he felt alone. 

_ What the hell was I thinking? Talking to him like that.  _ He couldn’t help but feel like he took advantage of Gerard in a way.  _ He couldn’t even get out more than a few dizzy words, and I just stood there and screamed at him. Over shit that’s not even entirely his fault. I treated him like some junkie asking me for money to blow on a few poppers.  _ In all fairness Frank was kind of faded himself, but he felt a weight on his lungs and stomach. He didn’t know what Gerard would do if he started to think everyone was against him. Frank didn’t know what he would do if he lost gerards trust or his friendship. 

Frank tried to slow his heart rate organically.  _ Just breathe you asshole,  _ he thought to himself but he could still feel his heart pounding in his head and fingertips. He felt around in his pockets and coat for something, anything to smoke. He eventually scavenged a bent cigarette that looked like a camel turkish royal, which he didn’t smoke, so he was vaguely confused about that but nonetheless, put it to his lips. 

As he lit the cigarette and inhaled deep and slowly, he held in his other hand what he would call literal crumbs of weed hoping he’d find someone with a pipe or a paper soon enough.  _ Seriously, what the hell am I gonna do? Confess to Gerard how I have this affinity for him I can’t explain and sound like a complete fucking fag? Ruin this tour? Break up the band? MyChem, we have something so important and I can’t ruin that because I want to kiss my bandmate. But also Jepha... _

Looking up from his hands, he realized that the sun was gone from the sky.  _ Jesus, when did that happen?  _ He grabbed his watch and twisted it on his wrist to see the hands. They still said 6:37.  _ Huh? I guess my watch stopped.  _ The summer heat hadn’t yet dissipated though and he was uncomfortably warm. Frank let out a forced, angrily chuckle. “Motherfucker,” he yelled and clenched his hands together with a sudden rush of energy and rage. 

He wanted to punch something, cry, scream at the top of his lungs.  _ nothing makes sense.  _

_ “ _ Nothing makes sense,” he repeated this time out loud. 

“What?” someone said right as he turned around and swung and the air with all the force and confusion inside his body. 

His fist hit something, which he hadn't planned for. His eyes and fists were still shut tightly when someone grabbed him by his shoulders tightly and then pulled him in close. They were taller than him, towered over him in fact. Frank surrendered completely and melted into their arms. 

_ I know this person,  _ Frank thought, but he was already bawling. He hugged the person tightly back and sobbed into their chest. He didn’t really care to look up and see who they were, he felt safe. 

“Dude, what..?” Ray said.

_ Oh, That’s who I just hit.  _ Frank thought. Ray was at a loss for words, clearly confused. As anyone who got decked in the face by their 5’5, 5’6 on a good day, soft ass band mate would be. 

Frank stepped back, out of Ray's embrace and sipped his face. He wouldn’t look Ray in the eyes and he stuttered to explain himself. 

“No, No, It’s okay...I think. Are you okay? Let me see your hand you little fucker” Ray giggled. Frank couldn’t help but smile back. He flattened his hand and reached out to show Ray. 

“I’m sorry, I really am. I didn’t know you were there.” Frank said. 

“What the hell were you aiming for then?” Ray said. “Your hand looks kind of fucked up, I won’t lie” 

Frank pulled his hand away from Ray and felt his knuckles with his good hand. They were raw and sore.

“Your hand is in a lot worse shape than my face. Forgive and forget. It’s fine.” Ray said, shrugging. “You’re lucky it was me standing behind you and not four drunk dudes looking for a fight” 

“Yeah I know. Thank you Ray” Frank said, his nose still running. They stood there quiet for a while, walking in circles around each other.  _ God, another person I gotta explain my sudden fits of rage too.  _

“So um, are we gonna talk about it?” Ray said stopping in his tracks and looking into Frank. “I know you and Gerard were fighting. I came looking for you because no one had seen you in hours.” 

He just kind of stood there. Silent and staring off.  _ I don’t know. I don’t know why I'm so angry or who I’m angry at. I don’t know how to feel okay.  _ He felt tears building again and a lump forming in his throat. He turned away from Ray. 

“Hey…” Ray said softly reaching for Frank's back. Frank tried to shove him back with his elbow. “It’s okay, I know you both care about each other a lot. He was shaken up about it too” 

“Yeah? and what did he do? Take a mouthful of pills and pass out with a lit cigarette in his hand?” He scoffed and swiveled back around to look at Ray. 

“Well, we all have our vices Frankie-“ 

“Bullshit! You know he has a problem. A worsening problem. No one is addressing it and no ones being honest with him, and then I'm the bad guy for wanting him to be okay. Be sober. For once.” Frank's voice was rising. 

“That’s not completely true. That’s not even what started your guys fight and you know that” Ray said. 

“Whatever,” Frank whispered.

“Can we go back to the van now? It’s like 2 Am” Ray said looking around. Frank looked around with him wondering what they were looking for. 

“Let’s go c’mon” Ray reached for Frank’s shoulder and wrapped himself around him as they walked back to the bus. 

When they returned to the bus Frank took a deep breath before walking in after Ray.  _ I’m gonna hurl,  _ he thought. Hoping everyone would be passed out and he could finally pass out, but when he came in he only saw a sleeping Mikey, drooling with his glasses in the table next to him, and Bob zoned out on his game boy. Bob looked up at him and nodded. He squeezed last Ray and he gave him a wink goodnight. 

Frank slumped into his bed wondering where Gerard was.  _ Probably with Bert.  _ He took off his belt and jeans and pushed them to the end of his bunk, got under his blanket and layed there for the next 45 minutes or so thinking about Jepha.  _ Why’d he make me get that feeling? _

_ The Gerard feeling?  _ He also noticed the way Jepha took note of how Frank moved his arms and the way his lips moved when he talked.  _ He treated me the way I treat Gerard.  _ His mind could not help but wander, as he fell asleep he thought about what Jepha’s hands would feel like wrapped around his waist and traveling up his torso to his neck. and What his lips might feel like against his collarbones. He started sinking into the fantasy the door to the van slammed and he heard someone, presumably Gerard stumbling inside and throwing his body into the bunk adjacent to Frank. He didn’t even take off his shoes or belt. He just shifted his head to make eye contact with Frank for a moment. His eyes were teary and seemed to be shaking in his head just as Frank opened his mouth to whisper something to him, Gerard turned to his side and faced the wall of the van. Frank closed his eyes and curled up. No one else in the van moved again that night. 

Frank woke up the next day drenched in sweat.  _ Jesus fucking christ is so hot here.  _ He rolled his head back, it popped a few times. He exhaled loudly and turned to Gerard's bunk, he was still knocked out and probably would be for the next few hours. He snored softly and he saw drool spilling from his mouth. Frank shook his head and walked over to grab his cigarettes from his coat, glancing up at the clock on the wall. it said 10:47. He walked outside and the heat and brightness of the sun shocked his body. He sat down on the dry yellow grass and flicked his Zippo open. 

Spitting between every long drag, Frank felt detached from his body and his actions. He suddenly noticed his bruised knuckles.  _ Jesus how the hell does my hand look this bad. Ray hardly flinched.  _ His cig started to scorch his fingertips so he dropped it into the beer can conveniently next to him and lit another.

Frank wasted most of his day like that, walking around, not sure where his legs were taking him. Chain Smoking cigarettes, a few bowls, and drinking warm alcohol. He didn't see anyone he knew too well. He walked to the liquor store and blew 10 dollars on 5 losing scratchers. When he came back, he started heading toward the van because their set started soon. 

Frank was a few feet away from the door when Ray swung it open. His face was bruised as all hell. “Toro? What the fuck, I did that” 

“Don't give yourself too much credit, I bruise like a peach” Ray giggled. Frank looked down at fist and back up at Ray's face a few times.

“Shit man. I’m so sorry I really didn't mean to. Why didn't you tell me?” 

“Mother fucker, you think you're easy to find?” they both looked down and smiled. Frank started walking at the door again. 

“Hey what do you need from there, i'll get it.” Ray stuttered and pushed Frank away from the door.

_ What the hell.  _ Frank thought and shoved Ray away. 

When he walked in it took him a few seconds to realize what he was seeing. Bert moved off of Gerard's chest and wiped his lip, smirking at Frank a little. Frank boiled, shifting his gaze to gerards innocent eyes. 

“ _ Frankie, h- how, um. I've been looking for you all day! We really have to talk-” _

Frank squinted his eyes at him and swallowed. _ What the fuck does this guy want me to say right now.  _ Ray was standing behind Frank still. He cleared his throat. 

“Erm Bert, we got sound check soon, you mind if we get ready?” Bert started to gather himself and Ray moved away from the door frame. 

“No,” Frank said loudly, “i'll go.” Still not breaking eye contact with Gerard.

“Dude, C’mon” Ray said to Frank as he walked out the door. 

“I’ll be at sound check, don't worry” He said quietly and stumbled out of the van.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard's face flushed. “Frank I really do not know what I could tell you that you couldn't gather for yourself. Now whether you have an issue with this because you hate me or hate Bert or hate yourself is not my problem. Don't put your shit on me.” 
> 
> -  
> -  
> -  
> I want to put a quick warning for one section of this chapter there is a brief description of body image and being boney/thin. If that could possibly be triggering read at your own discretion, however its not a big thing, just one sentence.

All through sound check and the show Frank felt Gerard look at the back of his head, desperately trying to say  _ turn around, look at me, talk to me, forgive me.  _ Frank couldn't get himself to look back though. He just kept playing as if nothing had ever happened. 

Once they finished the set list Frank realized that the show was over and he had to pack up his gear and go back into the real world. He kind of blacked out for most of the set and didn't remember playing it. Which was probably for the better, seeing as it gave less time for frank to think about what had accrued pre show time. 

Now that he had re entered reality though, it was all he could think about. More than anything though he couldn't get Berts stupid fucking smirk off his mind. The way he looked at him  _ knowing  _ what he was doing. Frank knew he was getting all worked up again. He packed his gear up quickly in hopes to get away somewhere quiet where he could smoke in peace.

As he was practically running off stage he heard footsteps behind him and Gerard shouted “Frank! Frankie, please I really want to talk” Frank just kept walking hoping Gerard would just give up and leave him alone. “Frank! I swear to god can you slow down?” Gerard started coughing “Jesus slow down!”

Frank abruptly stopped and spun around, Gerard gasped, nearly slamming into him. “Gerard what could you possibly have to say to me right now” 

“Um” Gerard blinked and stepped back and looked around. 

“What?” Frank shouted, throwing up his arms. “You scared someone will overhear? See that we are talking to each other? Am I that embarrassing to you?” Gerard looked sharply into frank's eyes.

“You're being pretty fucking embarrassing right now Frank. Is that really what you think of me? That I care how people look at me? I dont give a damn about how these people look at us but for your sake I’d quiet down.”

Frank breathed in and lowered his voice slightly, but he was still yelling, “I don't really know what explanation you could possibly have for having your tongue down Berts throat in the middle of our van.”

Gerard's face flushed. “Frank I really do not know what I could tell you that you couldn't gather for yourself. Now whether you have an issue with this because you hate me or hate Bert or hate yourself is not my problem. Don't put your shit on me.” 

_ Fucker.  _ Frank thought. Once again he blacked for second. When he snapped back into his body he was standing over Gerard, who was no longer on his feet and holding his face. Gerard cowared and frank then noticed his throbbing first. He shook it off and reached down to help Gerard. When he flinched at his arm, Frank realized what he had done. He quickly stood up and ran.

He didn't know where he was going but there was hardly anyone around. Hopefully he'd run out of breath eventually or maybe his legs would fall off or Bert would catch up with him and rip them off for him. That was one thing he liked about Bert. His loyalty. Frank's mind was going in a million different directions. The look on Gerards face when he reached down for him,  _ the fear.  _ He shook his head hoping the image would go away, that what he had done would be reversed. 

Suddenly Frank felt himself falling over. Once he hit the ground he opened his eyes to see Jepha on his back next to him. The poorly kept grass was golden and stabbing through holes on franks jeans. His elbows and knees ached. He was itchy, and hot and out of breath. Frank was gasping for hair. He was only halfway sitting up, looking at his hands, red and aching. His vision blurred and tears fell down onto his palms. 

Jepha looked down to his face searching for his eyes. He reached for his chin and lifted his head upwards. Looking deep into his worried eyes. “Hey” Jepha said softly, smiling from the corner of his mouth. This only caused Frank to break down even more. 

He bit his lip hard, nearly making it bleed, begging his body to stop. He couldn’t though, his whole chest was shaking and his face was rosy and swollen. He didn't understand how he felt so numb yet so much emotion all at once. 

Jepha helped Frank stand up and they walked together in the quiet for a few minutes until they reached a secluded spot of the parking lot. By the time they got there Frank's breath had slowed and the tears on his face had dried. They sat on the warm black asphalt. Frank crossed his legs and rested his elbows in the caves of his knee, and his face into his palms. 

“Ready to talk?” Jepha asked. Frank cleared his throat and sniffled. He opened his mouth to speak but instead he felt a stunning in his nose and felt his face get hot again. His eyes started to tear so he held his shirt up over his eyes to dry them. Jepha scooted over to him and put his arm around his head and pulled him in close. Frank started to shake again, and lost his control over his breathing. 

“How could I do that to him?” he whispered into his elbow.

Jepha let go of his head and looked him in the eyes. “Do what?” he cocked his head to the side a little. 

“I- I..hit him” Frank said. Jepha broke eye contact for a moment, searching for something to say “See now even you're scared of me. And did I mention I decked Ray too? God what the hell is wrong with me? I mean people dont think I'm some aggressive, abusive dude do they? I mean, maybe I am” 

“Frank, are you joking? No one thinks that way about you. You're not some guy who goes around torturing people and starting violence for the hell of it, you're not ronnie radke for god's sake.”

Frank smiled and let out some hesitant breaths for the first time in what seemed like days. He felt like air was finally going through his lungs properly, like blood was pumping in his veins effortlessly, and his heart was beating without needing to be reminded. Being happy was a lot less challenging around Jepha. 

“Why were you guys fighting about again anyway?” 

“Jesus man, I went into the van and him and Bert were like making out or something. I try not to remember to remember the details.” Frank sighed.  _ Now how am I gonna explain to him just why it made me so angry. I either sound like a flaming bigot or like I can hardly handle myself around Gerard because I've got such a boy crush on him. I also don't want him to get the idea that I don't feel something for him, because I do, I just- _

“Oh,” Jepha said disappointed.  _ I’m not stupid.  _ He thought.  _ I know he's not a homophobe or anything and the only other explanation is that he's got something for Gerard. _

It didn't need punching Ray, Gerard, and running over Jepha to be able to gather that Frank might have a thing for Gerard. He was not exactly subtle about it. Frank tried to defuse the awkward moment of abrupt silence. 

“What, got you hots for your band mate as well?” Frank let out,hoping Jepha would catch on that he was wildly uncomfortable. 

Jepha looked up at Frank and glanced down at his lips, soft velvet looking and rosy. “You know better than that.”

Frank choked a bit. It felt like there was a wasp colony in his abdomen. He knew he was red and his body was visibly shaking with nerves. Frank decided at that moment that he really didn't care anymore. He realized Anything he had with Gerard didn't really matter because Gerard had Bert now. Nothing was easy with Gerard. Everything was easy with Jepha. He didn't hold back or lie or make you wait or wonder. Frank lunged forward up from his seated position onto his bruised knees and fell into Jepha holding the sides of his stubbly face. Frank felt Jephas breath on his upper lip. He was warm, his lips knew exactly what to do against franks. He felt Jephas head hit against one of the tour buses they were using to shade themselves.

His hands traveled up from Frank's thigh up to his waist. Jepha felt the definition on his rips grow more and less noticeable as he took deep fulfilling breaths and adjusted his lips position on Jephas every couple seconds. 

Frank pulled away reluctantly and sat down on his legs; he hadn't wanted to stop, but he had to bring himself back into his reality. After several minutes he felt his conscious return to his body. They didn't say anything for a long time, but Frank moved over to lay his head against the van with Jepha. Suddenly Gerard popped into hsi and for a brief moment he felt better about himself, like he was sticking it to Gerard or something. 

_ Jesus what the hell is wrong with me? Do I only think I like him because it makes me feel less shitty about Gerard replacing me?  _ He thought. Jephas reached over and used his index finger to bring Frank's eye to meet his. They both smiled and Frank's head got hot again. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

_ Fuck me, that smile.  _ Frank thought, studying the way corners of his mouth were asymmetrical. 

“Huh?” Jepha asked again. 

“I don't know. I feel bad for not feeling bad” He admitted. Jepha leaned into Frank this time and kissed his lips softly, stood up and walked away. 

Once Jepha was out of sight Frank figured he should probably be going as well. The sun had been down for a while and he actually felt organically tired. As he walked out of the maze of buses and vans to get to theirs, he rummaged for his cigarettes. He came up empty but wasn't particularly bothered. As he walked onto the straw like grass, withered from the summer heat wave, he kept replaying the moment just before his lips touched Jephas for the first time. How blissfully unaware- and unbothered by his previous confusions and raging fears. It felt right, wholesome. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he had made at least one good decision.

  
  
  


Frank woke up the next day to the sun shining through the curtains of his little bunk, beaming on his face. Usually this is the kind of thing that would ruin his mood for the whole day, but the subtle warmth was strangely comforting.

He spent a few minutes waking up and thinking about what had happened the night before when his stomach dropped, remembering  _ what had happened last night.  _ Frank felt his stomach tie into knots, seeing the flashes of knocking gerad to the floor and looking over his fragile body. Focusing on the watery fear in Gerard's eyes when he snapped back into his body. The shame he felt from the physical and emotional bruises he left on not only Gerard but their relationship overwhelmed the warm comforting feeling of being with Jepha. 

He then realized he was alone in the van. The sensation of being alone with this feeling was a horribly deafening thing. Suddenly all the sounds around him rushed into his ears at once, crackling amps, screeching of microphone feedback, the laughing of people just like him. Only for those aggressive sounds to flush out and be replaced with a high pitched sound moving around the van inconsistently. 

_ “ _ What the fuck,” Frank shook, finding himself on the floor on the van with his knees held close to his chin. He thrashed his head around the room frantically trying to figure out where the lack of sound was coming from. He gagged only to become aware that he was holding his breath.

_ Breathe! Fuck, just breath!  _ He told himself over and over until he could. 

Once he regained control of his respiratory ability, he crawled up onto his bunk again and slammed his curtains against the van wall so no light was in his bunk. All his sheets were gone somehow and he was cold and sweaty and exhausted. 

_ What the fuck was that.  _ He thought as he drifted out of consciousness 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
